


A Reasonable Distraction

by TwiExMachina



Category: Fire Emblem Heroes
Genre: Dry Humping, Explicit Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Masturbation, Other, Outdoor Sex, Porn With Plot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-17
Updated: 2017-03-04
Packaged: 2018-09-25 01:47:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9797087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwiExMachina/pseuds/TwiExMachina
Summary: The first time the mysterious man faced the Summoner, he lost.  The second time went differently.  The second time he won.  Technically.  For a time.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I saw the Mysterious Man's damaged portrait and I got really invested in his character design and have been planning this for weeks.

The last hero fell to Valaskjálf's ice, frozen and blue for a second before they could not stay in the world anymore and faded into white light. The summoner was the last one standing. By themselves, barely a threat. They were smart, but weak. Their weapon fired heroes to hide behind. He won. He found the summoner and won against them.

Really, it was only luck that his regular stalking of the border patrols found the summoner out with some heroes. He was just planning to do reconnaissance, glean whatever he could. He didn’t want to make himself more obvious than he already was. But there was an armored knight clunking around. The one mage held a fire tome. He couldn't not attack them. 

No hard feelings. He had his own agenda, and if he could take away the summoner from Askr, well, that works. 

And so he had the summoner. They stood, mouth agape. Their hood hid their face, but he assumed that they were just as shocked. The summoner remembered to move, raised Breidablik. Well that wouldn't do. Valaskjálf's pages fluttered, magic gathered at his fingers. The summoner was little more than a civilian. He didn't want to harm them too badly. Just a bit. He let the magic flow out onto the ground and icicles burst under their feet. They were blunt, scraped by them and they fell, Breidablik clattering out of their hand.

That was it, the end of the battle. There he stood, above the summoner, victorious. He could feel his lips twitch into a smile and he laughed. He clipped Valakjálf onto a sleeve and let it hang. He wouldn’t need it anymore. He dismounted Sleipnir, patted his flank and his horse moved away. "Well, that was an easier fight than the last," he said as he walked towards the summoner where they were sprawled on the ground, facedown. "And I was alone too." They stirred, rubbed their head over the hood. Good, conscious. He'd feel silly just talking to someone who couldn't respond. "Even so, you're quite skilled," he said as he walked towards them. "Would you mind lending your brain and your weapon to me?"

They groaned.

"Is that a yes or a no? I can't quite tell." They reached for Breidablik and he stepped on their hand. They let out a small cry, grabbed at his ankle. "Please, none of that now." He knelt down and grabbed Breidablik and tossed it against a tree, far away from them. "No soldiers," he lifted his foot off of their hand, watched them cradle their hand to their chest. "No heroes," he grabbed their shoulder and pushed them on their back. Their hood slipped back, face fully, finally, revealed. He knelt next to them, his shadow cast over them. "Just you and me."

"What do you even want?" they asked. 

He smiled. Defenseless, but not weak. Their voice was stern, making demands even when at his mercy. "In general or with you?"

They paused, looked down, then looked back up at him. "With," then they hesitated, oddly because that wasn't present before, "with me."

"Askr is where potential goes to die. It's the best place to be complacent. It'd be a shame—"

He had more to say, then the summoner's fingers traced under his chin, just the fingertips touching. It was so gentle. They were wearing gloves, how could they be so soft? He stared at them as their fingers moved down to his throat. "A shame?" they asked quietly.

"Yes. That's what I said." He swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing against their finger. "You're. You're touching me."

"Yes," they said, and moved their hand back up to his cheek. They always had their hood up, but now it was out of their face and he thought he could see them for the first time. He hadn't thought their face would be important. He didn't know if he could look away now. They weren't accustomed to battle. They weren't thin, weren't muscular. They looked soft. They bit their lip, ran their fingers over his own lips. "I've…kinda wanted to do this for a while."

He could feel his face heating up, felt his ears darken. He didn't know if he could say anything. He didn't know what he would say.

They spoke again, a bit softer. "You're...you're really handsome."

"Mask notwithstanding."

"No, the mask helps."

"Ah…" As quick as he found the words, they were gone again.

"What do you think of me?" Their voice was quieter then, maybe shy. He found himself leaning closer to listen. He certainly wasn't looking at their lips. Shiny, probably because they kept biting them. Plump lips. They'd get kiss swollen soon, if his thundering heart was allowed to.

"You're…"

"Yes?"

"Shiny." The gold made them glisten. He hated all of Askr's bright whites, so pristine, flippant displays of selfish prosperity but the summoner made it different. They were different. They were still so soft, full cheeks tinged pink. It made sense, but still. ‘Shiny’. What a moron.

They laughed. "I'm guessing that's a good thing." He wanted to say more, something in response, but they leaned in close and he forgot words existed at all. Their breath was warm against his lips. They paused, looked up at him. "Can I kiss you? Is that alright?"

"Yes. Very alright," and he closed his eyes as the summoner kissed him. Their lips were soft too. It was slow, they pulled apart, reconnected again. It has been a while since he kissed someone. It had been a while since he wanted to kiss someone. It was nice, sucking on their lip, feeling their breath against his face. There was no rush. He was fine with that. The forest was quiet.

They broke the kiss and the summoner slid out from underneath him. He began to ask what was wrong when they sat on their knees, grabbed his neck and pulled him back into a kiss, their teeth scraping his lip. Escalating. He was fine with that too. He teased their lip with his teeth, slipped his tongue into their mouth as they moaned. Warm, soft, their hands curling over his shoulders. He could lose himself in this.

The summoner pushed on his shoulders and he stopped kneeling and sat back. His legs fell spread and the summoner crawled between them. He grabbed their cloak as they put their hand against his cheek, brushed their lips along his jaw. "I don't know your name," they said, quietly.

"I've never told you. To be fair, you never gave me yours." There was no opportunity. Passing by them when they first appeared, Alfonse demanding and angry at their side, their first battle not cordial enough to warrant introductions.

Their teeth grazed his jaw and he tilted his head back for them. "I could tell you now," they said against his throat.

"That's nice. You won't get mine."

He could feel them frown. "It's more fun moaning someone's name."

"Just moan louder then." He took their chin and tilted his head towards theirs and they kissed again. His tongue traced their lips, felt them shiver and moan. He wondered how much he was allowed to touch. He wasn't planning on removing his gloves, but the sensation wouldn't be dulled for them. And that was all he really cared about, somehow. They were already making such wonderful noises.

He pushed the hood out of the way completely and ran his hands along their neck, up into their hair, then down, thumbs framing their throat. They pulled away from his lips, though not much further. For a moment he didn't say anything, and when they just stared at him, he spoke quietly. "Is that not good?"

"I'd like more."

He laughed a bit then leaned in and bit their lip. "Greedy or eager?" he asked. 

He expected some flustered reaction, some sarcasm. But they ran their hands over his chest, under his cloak. "You tell me."

His heart felt loud. He knew they could feel it too, their rubbing hand stilling there, their smile widening. And he could do nothing but sit there. Had it been so long that a few warm touches was now enough to make him starstruck?

He leaned in and pressed his lips to their neck, teased the skin with his teeth. His reached back, ran his hands over their back. He could only reach the small of their back. "That's not enough," he muttered. "Get a bit closer."

They straddled his leg, settled on the small bit of his pants above his armor. Their leg was curled against his crotch, and they leaned back just enough so their chests were apart. "How's this?"

"Better." He slid his hands up their thighs, gripped their butt under their cloak. They shifted, made a small noise. "Is this okay?"

They nodded, shifted back and forth on his leg. "Yes. It's. Good." He squeezed them again, grinned at their slight moan. "Good," they repeated and kissed him. They weren't tentative anymore, tongue pushing past his teeth, meeting his own eager tongue. They were making the smallest noises, barely audible over their kisses. He could feel it, breathed against his cheek. They kept moving, shifting against his thigh, leg pressed against his erection. "You're so solid," they groaned when he had to breathe. "It feels like like I'm leaning against a wall. You're a mage, you shouldn't be so buff."

He didn't have anything he could say, just laughed and leaned in and kissed and bit their throat, leaving the faintest marks, spots of red that wouldn't last the night. 

"And then there's…" they shifted their leg against his crotch and he groaned, bending his face into their shoulder. They moved their hands to his hair and held him there. They bent down and breathed against his ear. "It feels so big. I can't believe you're that hard for me." They shifted on his lap again, back and forth, let out a small moan and he realized that every movement was purposeful, that they were grinding against him. 

They stopped again, and he squeezed their ass and pulled them closer. They let out a small noise and grabbed his neck and kissed him, moaned in his mouth, continued rocking against his leg. They soon broke the kiss, rested their forehead against his and just breathed. He couldn't think of anywhere he'd rather look. 

He kept touching, one hand dragging across their hip, catching on the belt. Well that won't do at all. He pulled back a bit, looked down at the thick band of leather. "That's very inconvenient," he muttered, ducked away from their lips as they moved to meet him again. "Lend me a hand. Unless this is enough," he said while he slid his hand down to their crotch and rubbed them through their pants.

"Shit. No, that's—" he pulled his hand away but they tugged at their buckle and slid their belt half off. "You should—please," the grabbed his wrist, pushed his fingers against their waistband.

He grinned. They were lovely when they were desperate. "Like this?" he asked and they whined as he slipped his fingers into their pants, his fingers tangling in the hair there, but no further, not at the slick skin between their trembling thighs. "How is that?"

They glared at him and he grinned. They grabbed his cloak, pulled him close and bit his lips. He smirked as they rocked against his leg again he and slid his hand down further. He rubbed his finger against their clit and their thighs shook. Their breath trembled. "Yes, yes."

"Tell me if it's too much—"

"No, no, it's not, it's good, it's so good." He rubbed their clit and they held his face and kissed him, gasping and moaning as they rocked against his hand. They weren't oversensitive, he thought absently, turned on enough from just grinding his leg. He moved his hand off of their ass and grabbed their hair, made them groan into his mouth. He slipped his hand down and eased a finger into them, curled it briefly so they gasped in his mouth, then slid his fingers back to their clit. He smiled against their lips as they struggled to keep kissing him, just gasped into his mouth. They wouldn't last long, he was sure. He kept the rhythm smooth, coaxing each breathy moan to come faster and faster. 

They rocked against his hand, then stilled and shook. Their voice caught and choked, sounded wonderful. He kept stroking them as they came, giving them more and more. His fingers felt damp even through the gloves. They stopped and fell heavily against his shoulder and just breathed. He slipped his hand out of their pants and rubbed their back with his other hand. They pressed their face into his neck and hummed softly. "Back now?" he asked.

They nodded.

He kissed their head. "Good." He moved his hand down their arm, gently held their wrist and guided their hand to his crotch. Their touch felt warm even through their layers. He smiled up at them, rocked towards them as they traced his erection with a single finger. "It should be my turn then."

The forest felt like it was just the two of them. The sound of someone calling orders in the distance shouldn't have startled him, but he stilled. First, at the sound of people disturbing their world. Then, Alfonse's voice. And then he remembered the schedule of patrols. Everything was regular, had barely changed. When they did change, he knew that pattern as well. This was unnatural. There shouldn't be anyone, not for a long time. The summoner rested their chin on his shoulder. "Ah, they're finally here." They pulled back, and he could only stare as they eased their hand out of his grip and raised their hand to tap his lips with a finger. "Everyone gets protective of me. I can't fight, and training has been poor. You know our patrols, don't you? But see, you don't know them when I'm there. They keep a close eye on the checkpoints, and if I'm late, even just a minute, they send someone after me, and that someone is always high ranking or a hero.” They shrugged. “I needed to make sure you didn’t kidnap me so we just need a distraction." 

"You—you tricked me?"

"Yeah, I did." They smiled, and it still looked dazed with their flushed cheeks. They ran their finger over his bottom lip, curved it along his top, then looped back down again. "To be fair, I do think you're really attractive. But. Y'know."

He could hear soldiers pushing their way through the forest, getting closer. The summoner wrapped their fingers around his wrist, like they were going to keep him there. There was no weight. They didn't have enough strength, still panting against his lips. Or maybe they didn't want to keep him. He almost wanted to stay, keep the summoner on his lap. He shouldn't, but even though they had just calmly admitted that they had manipulated him he still wanted to grind against them until he came, he was still hard. 

Branches cracked and he remembered to move. He shoved the summoner off of his lap and scrambled to his feet. He looked down at them, propped up on their elbows, legs still spread. Tempting, but he looked away from them and ran into the woods. "Sleipnir! Where are you you damned horse!"

Sleipnir looked up from where he was grazing. He looked mildly insulted. The man ran to Sleipnir's side and quickly mounted the horse. He tried to settle into the saddle, raised out of it again. Erections and saddles did not fit well together. He grabbed Sleipnir's reins and drove his heels into the horse's flank, pushed him forward and away from the woods, the summoner.

He could only relax at his safehouse. No one had followed him. He also wasn’t hard anymore, though it took far longer than it should’ve. He went through the routine of caring for Sleipnir and pretended like he still wasn't thinking about the summoner. It worked for a time, then he removed his cloak and remembered their hands gripping it tightly, holding onto him as they ground against his leg and that boner was back.

He sighed and leaned against the wall. He couldn't even get out of his armor without thinking how much he would've liked to feel their hands on his chest. He rubbed his face. Their scent was still on the glove, musky from where they had soaked it. 

He held his head for a long moment, then moved his other hand down to his pants, undoing them. He eased his erection out and stroked it slowly. He took a deep breath, smelled the summoner, let the breath go, and ran his finger over the slit and slid his hand down his length.

He wanted them again. The last thing he saw was them on their back, legs spread. For him. Waiting for him. He thought of lying between those legs, squeezing those thighs. Hard enough to bruise, if they'd let him. He thought of pulling their pants away, seeing the dampness coating the crotch before tossing them as far away as possible. He took a breath, thought of running his tongue over them, teasing their clit before slipping his tongue inside. He bucked his hips into his hand, cursed under his breath and moved his hand faster.

He thought of them making small noises above him. He thought of humming against their clit and making them cry out. They were greedy, they would try to grind against his face and take pleasure from him. He wanted to grab their hip and hold them down, keep them still for him. At his mercy.

Precum slid over his hand as he stroked himself. He was panting, his eyes closed, only thinking of the summoner, pretending that they were with him. He bucked into his hand, desperate for release, aching for it. It felt like he was waiting for days. He wished he knew their name. He wanted to moan it.

He came and thought of lapping up the dampness that would coat his face as they shook under him.

He breathed, let go of his softening cock. Slowly, he let his hand fall from his face. He took a couple shaking breaths, looked down at himself. Dick out, cum splattered on his pants. For the summoner. Not completely an enemy, but certainly not an ally either. He cursed quietly. They would not be leaving him anytime soon.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Mysterious Man gets his revenge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi my name is TwiExMachina and I can't write porn in any capacity without a fight scene at some point.

The masked man had his own agenda, and it needed constant attention. He didn't have an army under his command anymore; the only people who worked with him were fellow deserters. It wasn't a strong network, not when heroes and royals outclassed them in every aspect. So every moment should've been dedicated to planning, making progress as they rebelled against both empires. There wasn't time for frivolous distractions.

He kept waking up, sweat coating his skin, cock hard and leaking onto his sheets, thoughts of the summoner sticking in his head. It was absurd to be obsessing over them. So what? Someone had shown an interest in him for the first time, that was no reason to bite his pillow as he jerked himself off. They calmly admitted that they were manipulating him. That really should've been a turn off, should not have him gasping and coating his hand white.

They did say that they had been attracted to him though. So that part might've been genuine. They did choose to grind against his leg instead of any other distraction to keep him there.

"Be reasonable," he muttered as he washed his hand clean. "They're nothing. Keep your head."

They didn't leave. It was like a curse. He had more skirmishes with Askr and searched for the summoner. They never were there. He didn't know what he would do if he found them. He had his fantasies, but what good were fantasies when the reality was soldiers on both of their sides, soldiers that he couldn't dismiss just so he could pin the summoner against the ground and fuck them there?

But that didn't stop him from thinking about it in the moment, in the dead of night, where he was sitting in a tree along the Askr border patrol route. 

He had a problem.

He tore a leaf along the veins, stared at the clouds that drifted over from the ravine close by. If he closed his eyes, he could feel the weight of his mask slip away, feel his hair brush against his shoulders. It was nostalgic. It made him feel sick.

The patrol approached and he made himself still. He heard a gruff older man talk, the sound of armor and hoofbeats. Another voice, low, added his own thoughts, and a young man teased him.

Then the summoner laughed. He had never heard them laugh before. Their voice slid like cool water down his neck and he turned to look. In the distance an armored knight rode, leading an old man leaning on his staff. A young mage skipped behind of them, tugging along the summoner, who seemed to have a hard time keeping up. The summoner. Their hood was up, again, and they were too far to make out any details. But still. His heart pounded. They were there, they could be his.

He drew Valaskjálf and let the magic flow through him. They weren't close enough yet, still making their way down the path towards his perch. He let the storm grow. Valaskjálf's pages fluttered and it sounded just like the wind. The magic built as the armored knight approached. He carried a heavy axe at his side, and the fight would not be easy, not unless he did it right. Frost spread crystalline patterns across his glove. He let out a breath and it puffed out white.

"Whoa!" the mage boy said, as if that was supposed to serve as a warning to his magic now humming strongly in the air, a wound coil that released at that sound. Ice burst around him, flash freezing the leaves of the tree and bursting them in a shatter of sparkling snow. The magic traced a sharp line of icicles down the trunk of the tree and burst into spikes underneath the mounted knight. He wondered if the knight realized what had happened before he turned to light.

He hadn't thought he was capable of such magic. He let out a breath that shook into a laugh. The summoner moved, pulled out of the mage's grip and began calling out orders. "Make this easy for me won't you?" he called down to them. The cleric raised his staff and magic vibrated underneath his skin and cracked, made his teeth ache. "I suppose not," he groaned and cracked his neck. He threw his wrist out and ice tore at the robes at the cleric. He remained standing and the young mage raised his own purple tome and a murder of crows rattled at the tree. He grit his teeth and the magic did not stick. He grabbed at a branch over his head and stood. The crow's assault stopped and he sent a storm of ice onto the mage.

"Henry!" the summoner called.

"That's cold!" Henry complained. He rubbed his face with his wrist.

"You're not dead, right?"

"Nope, but pretty close though!"

"Wrys!" The summoner called as he unleashed another stream of magic onto the healer. That was enough to push Wrys back to his world, to fade with a pained groan.

Henry didn't last long either. He attacked again, and it stuck a bit more this time, began to eat at his leather armor, burned and boiled against his skin. He ignored it for a moment, and with a final stream of magic, Henry faded and the summoner stood alone.

Just him and them again. 

They stared at him, their hands shaking where they were clenched into fists. "Are you afraid?" he asked, the thrill wearing off. He may have just attacked them, and that might've been a mood killer. Whoops. 

"Why—" they started, swallowed, tried again, "Why are you here?"

"I was waiting for you. I got lucky again." He undid his cloak, draped it over a tree branch, took off the armor as well, threw it aside. It was worthless now, barely qualifying as protection. "We had such a lovely time last we met. Well, up to the end." He took a step forward and them back, against a tree. They looked back, surprised, like the tree had grown up from underneath their feet, then snapped their gaze back to him. He walked towards them. "Do you remember how you left me last time? It was quite cruel." He smiled, leaned forward, just in their space, laid his hands on the tree on either side of my their head. "I'd like to take my revenge now, if that's all right with you."

There wasn't a sound. The summoner didn't move, stared at him, their eyes wide.

His smile didn't fade though. "Is that all right?" he asked again.

"You're actually asking?"

"Yes."

"You're asking to take revenge," they repeated, and wherever unease faded away. Ever cool, Askr’s tactician. 

"Yes I'm asking. Give me at least one, singular credit."

"You just killed my friends in front of me."

"To be fair, they're really just concepts of their legacy and you've certainly brought them back before."

"Wow that makes it all better thank you for showing me the error of my ways. You’re kind of a dick, aren’t you?"

He shrugged. "Nobody's perfect." 

"So revenge?" They shifted against the tree and their knee brushed against his. "I thought we had fun."

He held their chin, rubbed his finger along the bottom of their jaw, skin so smooth, so vulnerable. "You left me in the woods hard and aching without release. These past few days, I've been haunted by you. You’ve left me hard in my bed by dreams of you. I want my revenge, I want you as desperate for me as I was for you."

They didn't say anything for a long moment. "Was or am?"

"I'm sorry?"

"Was desperate or am desperate?"

He looked down at them, felt the warmth of their skin through his gloves, slid his hand up and cupped their cheek. "Am."

Their lips twitched a bit into a smile, too quick to be smug. They reached up and grabbed his sleeves and pressed their lips to his. He closed his eyes and kissed them back, ran his tongue over their lips and they shivered. "You're cold," they muttered as they pulled back just enough to say that, lips brushing his.

"Sorry." He wasn’t. He leaned in and pressed his lips to their neck and they whined and shrugged their shoulder. "The magic will wear off soon enough." He continued kissing their neck, felt them squirm underneath him, tickled by the chill of his lips. He layered kisses over their throat, ran his tongue over their skin at one point and they moaned, high, alarmed, and clamped their hand over their mouth. He smiled against their skin. "My, that was a lovely sound." He stirred some magic in him, chilled his mouth again, and licked their neck. They arched underneath him, their chest pressing against his for an instant. Their moan was muffled though, their hand clamped overtop their mouth. Not nearly as sweet. "Don't hide," he muttered.

They didn't move their hand away, breathed heavily against their glove. He sighed and straightened up. He looked down at them, and they still didn't move. He kissed their fingers, gently took one between his lips and sucked it as he would suck their lip. Their eyes widened and they twisted their hand, pushed the finger he was sucking into his mouth. He couldn't tell if it was accidental, just trying to pull away or forceful, them being greedy again.

It didn't matter. He wanted to hold their wrist and guide their fingers into his mouth, wanted to suck on them and watch their face change, see their pupils darken as a flush spread over their cheeks. And he did, grinned around two of their fingers as he rubbed his tongue against the glove. They whimpered and bit their lip. He glanced down and saw them rub their thighs together. He had barely done anything and they were already so eager. Granted, he was already hard for them. It all balanced out. 

He pulled their finger out of his mouth, smirked at them as their eyes fell to the line of saliva connecting their finger to his tongue still. "So what triggered that lovely noise?"

"Your tongue was really cold," they muttered. 

He grinned. "You sounded like you enjoyed it though."

They flushed and nodded. 

"You enjoyed it even more when I did it again."

"It was colder," they muttered and looked away, embarrassed. Cute.

He held their chin, made them look at him. "So if I were to chill my mouth again and run my tongue against your clit, over your folds, ease it inside of you, would that be alright?"

Their face went from just pinked to fully red when he finished. "Yep. I'm fine with that."

"I'll keep that in mind," he said. 

"For like five minutes until you do it?"

"Hmm…no. For far, far later. That's not in my plans for you right now." He wasn't even sure how much more he wanted to do with them outside of his revenge. Maybe he'd get over them. Maybe not because they jutted their lip as they pouted and he just wanted to suck it. He held their face in his hands and leaned into a kiss, scraped his teeth against their lips when they touched again. They opened their mouth for him, met his tongue with eagerness, moans breathed into his mouth. 

He hadn't gotten to touch them much before, at least not enough. He moved his hands down to their neck. His thumbs pressed gently on either side of their throat, then he moved his hands down to their shoulders, slid down to their arms and squeezed. They were so soft. He already knew that, but it was still so fascinating when everyone he had ever really knew were soldiers or warriors. Even mages weren't as soft as the summoner. 

He moved his hands to their elbows, let go of them for an instant and grabbed their waist. He was tired of taking his time. It wouldn't be long before they were interrupted either, when the border patrol would be late and half an army would be sent out in search of the summoner. He grabbed their thigh at the thickest part and lifted their leg and hooked it over his hip. They broke the kiss and swore as they tilted on one foot. "Shit," they muttered and dug their fingers into his shirt. "I can't—okay," and they fell back against the tree.

"I've got you, just slide down." He didn't let go of their leg as he helped them down on the ground, kept it on his hip as he kneeled with them. It was graceless. One hand was wrapped in his shirt while their other arm flailed at their side for balance. But they did land on the ground, nothing broken, mood only slightly ruined. He pressed his forehead against theirs and they cupped his cheek. "You alright?"

"Yep. Don't do that again."

"Out of everything I've done, that is what you lecture me for?"

"My morality will catch up to me eventually." They pecked his lips. "Not now." He took their other leg and hooked it over his hip and pulled them by their hips so their crotch was pressed against his erection. He rocked forward and they groaned and grabbed his neck. "Nope, not now."

He ground his erection against their crotch for a couple seconds, moaned and bit his lip and stopped. "How is that?"

"Not enough, not enough." They moaned as he ground against them again and didn’t stop, their hips bucking against his like they could get closer, get what they wanted.

It wouldn't be anywhere close to enough, too many layers. Fucking against their pants would be a poor substitute for grinding against their slick cunt, but it was good enough. He didn't have time for anything other than quick. He was so needy. Desperate. Gods, he felt so pathetic but at the same time nothing mattered except friction, grinding against their crotch, the feel of their thighs heavy in his grip, their lips against his and their soft moans mingling with his.

He grabbed their ass and held them still against him as he ground against them, tipping him over the edge. He moaned against their lips as cum stained his pants, then dropped his head against their shoulder as he panted. He let himself be lost in the haze, didn’t care that he was out in public and that time was running short, just breathed in the summoner and pretended like they were the only one for leagues. They ran their fingers through his hair and held him there. He could feel them kissing his head, oddly gentle. Before the haze faded, he thought he’d like to stay there as the sun turned around them and not move. Then he remembered himself. He slowly pulled away and they smiled at him. "That was nice," they said with a smile.

"Did you come too?" He rubbed between their legs and they moaned and rocked against his hand.

"I, I didn't." He pulled his hand away and let them breathe. "But it was still nice. Got to see you cum."

"Ah," he said and couldn't think of anything else. It was oddly considerate of them to feel that way. He closed his eyes as their fingers traced over his face, following the curve of his jaw.

"So I'm next?"

"Did you forget already that this was revenge?"

"No, but I was hoping you did." He opened his eyes as their hands slid into his hair again. "What if I beg?"

"I'll enjoy the sound, but it won't change anything." 

"Please," they said, voice dipping down into a whisper. "Please please please please."

"I know you can beg better than that, though it is sweet."

"Please, I'm so wet, I'm so wet for you. Just feeling your cock was so good but it wasn't enough, please, let me come I need you, please."

"Now that's better. Still no."

"See, the problem is I can't say that I'll scream your name because I don't know your name."

"Yes, that's clearly the problem and not the fact that there's a worried patrol searching for you." He chanced another kiss before he moved back and kneeled, felt their hands slide from his head to his neck. If they kept touching him, he wouldn't want to leave. "And of course, revenge."

"You say that like I haven't masturbated to you already."

He thought he might've forgotten how to speak, just stared at them. Why was their genuine interest in him constantly a surprise? They smiled at him and rubbed their thumbs along his jaw. He had to remind himself that he couldn’t stay. He pulled back, their hands falling away from his as he stood up. He looked down at himself, at the large damp spot on his pants. The cum was already starting to dry and stick in places.

"That looks uncomfortable,” they said, shifting onto their knees in front of them. They put their hands on his knees and looked up at him. “I could help clean you up, if you want me to.” They licked their lips.

He stared down at them, considering it for a long moment. “You’re just trying to buy some time now, aren’t you?”

“You make it sound like distracting you with sex my only strategy.” 

“You’re smart. Nevertheless,” he walked back to the tree and took his cloak, putting it back on. He left the leather armor lie. It was useless anyway. That damn thing got torn to shreds too easily. “I have to go.” He walked away, heard them stand behind him. He did not look back.

They jogged behind him, tried to keep up with his quick stride. “Hey, wait.”

“I’m leaving before your bodyguards arrive.”

“I know. I’ll talk quickly.”

He stood near the ravine and looked over at them. They were fully in the sun now, not hidden in the shadows of the forest the two of them had spent their time in. They looked good in gold, looked good in the light. They shone. “Go ahead.”

“So I got off on you, and you used me, so now we’re even.” He raised an eyebrow, but they didn’t notice past the mask and continued talking. “The thing is, if we keep this routine up, eventually my morals are going to properly kick in and I’m going to be too disgusted by the fact that you keep killing my friends—”

“They’re still not real.”

“—that you cause my friends sufficient pain before banishing them back to their worlds to be turned on by you. One of these days, I’m going to remember to be repulsed by that and not be distracted by your…everything.” They looked up at him and let out a breath. “If you want to make this a mutual engagement now, the only place I’m really allowed to be alone at is the summoning runes, and past there is a lake with some trees, since apparently you like sitting in them.” They cleared their throat. “I’ve gone there before when I need some space, so I know how quiet and secluded it is. I can’t be at the summoning runes. But whenever I’m there, I’ll look for you. If, you know, you want to.”

He looked down at them. It was not a good idea. It could very easily be a trap. He shouldn’t waste any more time with the summoner. But they looked up at him and reached out and held his hand, their fingers wrapping around his. “I’ll…consider it.”

“Good enough,” they said and pressed their lips to his chin. “I’ll keep my eye out for you.” They let his hand go and ran back to the woods. He watched them. He hadn’t thought that it was possible to not know how to run properly. They weren’t swinging their arms properly, were running flat footed. It should not have been endearing. But he still found himself watching. Not a soldier, not a hero, just a lucky summoner with skills in strategy and boundless wit. And an interest in him. 

He shook his head and walked along the cliff to the river where he let Sleipnir go. He pulled at the crotch of his pants, sticky with cum. He thought of the summoner’s suggestion. It was another attempt at manipulation. They had admitted to that. But he couldn’t just forget about the idea, about their hands curled around his pants. He mounted Sleipnir and rode back to his safehouse, tried not to dwell on it, tried not to let his thoughts stray any further than just remembering the idea.

He thought of them tugging his pants down, licking their lip, biting them. He thought of their smile as they saw the mess he had made. He thought of what they would say, the flirtations that came so easily to them. He thought of them leaning in, nuzzling their face into his crotch and he groaned and buried his face into Sleipnir’s neck. Sleipnir snorted. “I know,” he muttered against Sleipnir’s mane and he could swear he could hear the surprised cooing they’d make as he’d become erect again under their tongue, brushing against their cheek. 

He’d visit them near the summoning stones, just once. Just to see if they were worth being with beyond their two meetings.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to visit me on my [tumblr](twiexmachina.tumblr.com)! I want to at least write one more scene, but I’ll probably get out as much sex and character as I can before more story comes out and proves me wrong, and I’m open to ideas.


End file.
